


Big Blind

by diefleder_tey



Category: 8UPPERS, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diefleder_tey/pseuds/diefleder_tey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Johnny can't get what they need out of a high stakes target, he suggests using a particular technique for obtaining information. Mac's willing to give it a shot - maybe a little too willing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for chocbiggestfan1 for 2011's k8_exchange. Uses the concept of extraction from the movie Inception (as she asked for an 8U Inception cross :D) - familiarity somewhat required. Title is a poker term.

  
Johnny walked through the door, dropped his coat and went straight for the bar. Out of everyone, he usually helped himself to their stock the least. But at that moment, he turned over a shot glass, the clear thump of the heavy end hitting the bar top, and grabbed the first available bottle.

Mac looked up from his cards at the table. "That good, huh?"

"I couldn't get anything out of her." He glanced over his shoulder before slamming the shot back. The frustration on his face quickly turned into regret.

"You're kidding," Jacky commented. "I thought you said she was really receptive - I thought this girl liked you."

"She does."

"I thought she liked you enough to give you information!"

"She does."

"So what's the problem?" Jacky asked, waving his cards around. He tended to see things in simple terms - when something happened to fall outside of those boundaries, his solution to the problem was to point it out, loudly, until the dissonance corrected itself. He was much too involved in letting Johnny know how this new development simply did not compute to bother holding his cards to his chest.

Something that Ace couldn't help but take advantage of as he glanced up and saw the three Queens in Jacky's hand. "Fold," he grumbled, tossing his own cards in.

"She's not giving me any details about his schedule," Johnny explained.

"She's too loyal to him, maybe?" Mac asked. "Call."

Johnny heard Arsenal mutter, "Everyone has a price," from somewhere in the next room over. He didn't bother to acknowledge the comment because it was something he knew all too well. Mac and Jacky might have been responsible for lining up the clients, the jobs, getting everyone paid - but it was Johnny who had to dig information out of people. Sometimes all it took was attention; sometimes he could just rely on his circle of sources. Sometimes bribing did the trick. His current job was trying to get the intimate details of a far-reaching trafficker's daily life from his secret girlfriend. If they could take him out, the pay-off would be huge. _If_ being the operative word - the guy was like a ghost, impossible to tack down. It had cost Johnny more than one relationship with his sources just to find out about the girl. Loyalty was part of it - in that she was loyal because it was what was best for her own neck.

Arsenal was right - everyone had a price. "Not if she got something in exchange," Johnny offered.

Mac put his left hand into his pocket and drummed the fingers of his right on top of his cards on the table. "Maybe we just need to let this one go."

"If we give her something she can use, maybe she'll be open to-"

"That's a lot of money to turn down," Jacky replied to Mac, ignoring Johnny's protests. "Check. A lot, you know?"

"I know."

"How much?" Ace asked, garbled through the pretzel stick he had just shoved into his mouth.

Jacky and Mac exchanged glances. "I wouldn't have agreed to it if it wasn't well worth our time, okay?" Mac answered.

"1 million yen," Jacky added, crossing his arms. Next to him Mac sighed and glared out of the corner of his eye.

"So?" Ace mumbled. "Drop it."

"Each."

He choked. "So give her something!"

Mac shook his head. "If she hasn't given up anything in a month, we're better off pulling out and looking for another job."

"That's more than most people pay total," Johnny said quietly from the bar. "It'd take a dent out of..." He stopped before out and out bringing up his past debt, the very reason he had come to be with the group in the first place. "It'd go a long way to getting everyone what they want."

"We can't afford to give up anything _she'd_ want, though," Mac continued. "Especially if she really is still loyal to the guy."

"Informants have to give out information, remember? They expect something in exchange."

"Giving up something's dangerous, and I'd rather not show any of our cards to someone tied to the target."

"You need the money too, Mac. If we just gave her something about our in-"

"Ahem."

Everyone in the room quieted down and turned their heads toward Gum, the last man sitting at the table with cards in his hand. He splayed them out and with a proud smile proclaimed, "Gin."

"Wrong game, stupid," Ace commented.

Mac pointed at the table. "He has a straight flush," he coughed.

Ace looked down at the line of spades in front of Gum. "I hate playing with you," he muttered. Gum merely answered with an even bigger grin.

"There's something else," Johnny interrupted. "If you don't want to barter with her...we could use extraction."

A wave of grumbling came from the table, and from the other room where Arsenal was still apparently listening in. "We could try," Johnny said.

Mac continued to tap his fingers on the table, glancing between Jacky, who looked less than thrilled at the idea, Johnny, who was staring straight at him, and Gum on the other side of the table, who wasn't looking up at all. It was a lot of money - money that if he had personally, he would give to them in a heartbeat. And it wasn't like the target didn't deserve it; Mac would have even considered agreeing to a cheaper rate if the job itself wasn't so difficult. The size of the paycheck sat on his shoulders heavily; it always did. He wouldn't put any of them in harm's way if he could help it, but money often led to ever increasing risk in their line of work. Still, it wasn't worth sinking all of their resources into, especially if they couldn't make any headway on something as simple as obtaining an itinerary. And besides that, if Johnny continued to sniff around the girl for information...surely she had already started to realize that he had no real interest in her?

"What could go wrong?" Johnny said.

Mac sighed - he couldn't really argue: it was too much to ignore without at least considering another angle. "Maybe."

"It'd be really easy," Johnny continued, straightening up. "I usually make the drinks, I can get her to take a sedative, slip it in. Toppo can make one strong enough to make sure she doesn't wake up."

"And what about everyone else?" Jacky exclaimed.

"We've been meeting in a private bar she has access to after hours," he answered. "There won't be anyone else to deal with."

"You know the layout well enough to recreate it?" Mac asked, quickly developing a new plan in his mind. Extraction was a technique that inspired mixed emotions in him. He wasn't overtly comfortable with all the risks that came with breaking into a person's subconscious. The actual act, though, was another matter - he loved it when plans came together perfectly and he considered himself skilled at reading people and mapping out their reactions. The subconscious was a schemer's infinite playground. He had only used it a couple of times since they'd obtained the designs and information from their inside man in the police force (apparently they were fond of using it for high profile confessions); but it was hard to say no in this situation. The pieces of the plot fit together perfectly, the conditions were right. Now was the best time, if ever, to use it. "Get in, get out and she thinks she just had too much..."

Through the doorway that lead to the other room, Arsenal's head poked out, cigarette tilted up in his mouth. "You don't need me for this, do you?" he asked around it.

"No."

"Good," he answered, leaving again.

"Then you don't need me either," Ace said, getting up from the table. "Hey, Arsenal, wait."

"Just me and Johnny," Mac answered. "We only need a few minutes in. If it's business as usual, we shouldn't need back up." He nodded. "Call her - you'll distract her and I'll look around."

"You need a third person," Jacky pointed out. "I'll go with you."

"It'll be suspicious enough with one person hanging around outside," Johnny pointed out. "We don't need more."

"But you need three," he continued. "Especially if something does happen."

Mac piped up, "All he has to do for the kick is say something. We'll be awake in no time."

Jacky shot him a look.

"I'm kidding," Mac lied.

"I'd rather have Toppo," Johnny pointed out. "In case something goes wrong with the sedative."

Mac nodded. "That's not a bad idea. I'll ask him." He slid his left hand into his pocket and balled it into a fist. "But if this doesn't work, we're dropping it, okay?" After a few nods, he left the table and headed for the door. He was already convinced it was going to work - it'd go according to plan and then they could start on the real job. And then, they'd get their biggest payout ever and maybe even a few of them could move on with their lives.

He smiled to himself. Why hadn't he thought of it in the first place?

  


***

  
Mac sat in the driver's seat of the VW Bus, his clothes and hair blending in with the dark night - his pale skin, unfortunately, standing out. He slumped behind the wheel. They'd been there, parked a street down from the site, for nearly an hour. No cars had passed, no people had walked by. Toppo sat in the passenger seat beside him, quietly playing a game on mute, trying to conceal the machine in his lap to keep the light from the screen from illuminating his face.

"He's taking too long," Mac commented. He kept his left hand in his pocket and his right hand on his cell phone, waiting for the signal. He was under the impression that Johnny usually made fast work of his contacts - especially when it came to women. The guy knew all the right things to say to get what he wanted - probably because what he wanted had nothing to do with personal gratification. His taste in men was his greatest asset when it came to charming women. He had met with this girl dozens of times for the exact same scenario: a late night meeting with drinks. The very first thing Johnny should have done was pour her a glass.

"You don't just walk in and drug someone," Toppo said, without looking away from his game.

"Huh?"

"Why it's taking so long," he answered. "He's probably letting her get comfortable and drink some so she's not suspicious later."

"Ah," Mac said, nodding. Still. If his phone didn't ring soon, he was going to risk calling just to make sure.

"I gave him something," Toppo continued. He hit pause and flipped the game over to use it like a flashlight, pulling a small spray bottle out of his pocket and tipping it toward Mac. "One of these, in case he runs into trouble."

Mac leaned in closer and took the homemade mace to look over it. He'd seen it knock people out before and in less wise moments, he had contemplated spraying himself just a little to see exactly what it did. As he weighed the pros and cons of giving into curiosity and taking a small sniff of the solution, his cell phone rang. Mac gave a startled shake and almost dropped it - and did drop the bottle onto the floor.

"Hey," Toppo said, using the game's light to look around the seats.

"Okay," Mac said into the receiver, "I'm coming." He snapped his phone shut. "She's down. How long will it take to get everything ready?"

Toppo glanced back behind his seat, a useless gesture since all of the equipment was hidden in the dark of night. "Five minutes, at most."

Mac was already half way out of the bus. "Come when you can, I'm going to make sure everything's secure." He looked around before jogging down the street to the back of the bar. With one more cautious glance, he knocked softly on the door.

Johnny opened it up, greeting him with a gentle smile.

"Took you long enough," Mac joked, sliding past him inside. It wasn't a very large place - mostly designed to cater to a select number of clientele. "Where is she?" He put his left hand into his pocket.

"Bathroom," Johnny replied, glancing down and then closing the door behind them. It latched in place with a strange click.

"Good, that'll help with the cover up." He started to pull furniture away from the middle, making a large empty space on the floor. "You'll meet her earlier in the night when there are other people around. I'll just slip into the background." He looked back. Johnny was standing off to the side, staring down at his pants. Mac made a quick check - maybe he'd left his fly open by accident. Nothing. He turned back to the furniture, crouching down to pull a rug over. "I'll...there should be something like a safe behind the bar - I'll see if I can get in and find something useful. Toppo said he'd improvise on the kick - we'll have about twenty minutes."

He stopped, a little put off by the silence, and stood back up. When he turned, Johnny was right there, staring him in the face.

"Understood?" Mac asked, somewhat uselessly, a little confused. "Joh-"

Johnny raised his right hand, spray bottle aimed, and shot it into Mac's eyes before the other had time to blink. Mac knocked him away, immediately putting his hands to face to try to rub out the burning.

 _Ah, so that's what it feels like._ He was barely able to process the thought before the second attack of the spray kicked in, a mix of stinging and the feeling of all the moisture being sucked out from his eyes instantaneously. Mac fell to his knees, trying to fight the temptation to claw at his face as he started to yell out in frustrated pain. His vision was getting blurry and the last clear thing he could see was Johnny pushing him over.

"Sorry," he said. He sounded genuine as he straddled Mac and put all of the weight of his tall frame on his chest.

"Sorry?!" The pain subsided a little and he felt his cheeks start to puff up and flush. "What was that for?!"

"It's in your pocket, isn't it?"

Mac reflexively stuffed his left hand into his pocket and tried pushing Johnny away with the other. "What is?"

"The name of our contact inside of the police."

"Why would that be in my pocket?" Mac argued, still trying to push away while burying his face into his shoulder.

Johnny leaned over and pulled Mac's left arm up, pinning it against the ground with his own. He reached into the pants pocket, gently feeling around - a touch so delicate Mac barely registered it over the pain settling in his eyes - until he found a slip of paper. It was folded several times and he quickly opened it up to read it before pushing up and off of Mac.

Out of nowhere, a loud blare of music filled the air - the sound of a man's voice singing a tune that sounded entirely too familiar. The same kind of music they used to synchronize kicks - the warning sign that extraction was about to end. "I'm already in it," Mac muttered, hitting the back of his head against the floor. It suddenly made sense - he couldn't remember anything about the card game until Johnny walked in the door.

Johnny shoved the piece of paper inside of his jacket. "I'm really sorry, Mac. If I give her our inside guy with the cops, she'll give me access to the target."

"You can't give her that, Johnny."

"She's not going to help take him down without a little collateral, Mac, a safety net. Trust me, we need to do this. It's getting harder and harder to get information out of people - they know who we are. They know who you are. We're taking down big names."

Mac coughed, the burning sensation starting to trickle into his throat. It was hard to take high profile jobs without getting noticed and the high profile jobs paid the best. And the better they paid, the more he could give everyone else. He didn't mind his lifestyle, he never had - but they deserved better. "We need the money."

"I know," Johnny replied, a sadness settling into his face. " _I know._ But we're kind of sloppy, you know?"

He did, at some level. Still, this was too big of a chip to bet. "You can't give up our contact."

"I have to," Johnny answered. "Or we're going to be on the outs with every one in town. My sources risk everything, they need something in return."

Mac had to speak louder and louder to make himself heard over the music. "But we need our contact in the police."

Johnny replied, his voice fading out, "We need the bad guys to trust us more."

  


***

  
Mac opened his eyes, slowly, and immediately started rubbing out the sting of morning. For a moment he was completely discombobulated, lost until he slowly realized he was sitting on the couch at the club with slight rays of day peeking through the windows. The table in front of him was littered with photos, detailed notes. Each picture was of a woman, obviously well off, and each shot was of her moving in and out of a particular bar. Mac pushed around the pictures and glanced at the notes - a log of her activity, a cloud of her connections.

"Oh, yeah," he said, rubbing his face again. His eyes felt dried out, his throat a little raw. He must have fallen asleep trying to plan their next move.

The gentle clinking of glassware caught his attention. The only other person there was Johnny, standing behind the bar, washing the few remaining dishes from the night before. He was humming very quietly - a song Mac couldn't recall if he knew.

"You're awake," Johnny commented, meeting his bleary eyed gaze. "Long night?"

"I guess," Mac replied. He stood up and stretched. It was taking an unusually long time for him to shake off the sleepy feeling.

"I couldn't get anything out of her."

"What?"

Johnny nodded to the table of pictures next to Mac. "I haven't been able to get anything out of her yet. You were out when I came in last night, so I just let you sleep."

He furrowed his eyebrows, watching Johnny finish up with the glasses. "Yeah."

"I'll try again in a couple of nights," he said. "I think I know how to get her to talk. Hungry?"

Mac nodded slightly.

"I'll order something," he answered, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"I'll pay," Mac replied, somewhat automatically. He was starting to feel a cold chill up his spine, one that balanced out the heat collecting in his cheeks. The hair on the back of his neck stood up - he couldn't figure out why or shake it away. Still slightly dazed, Mac tried to remember what happened the night before - exactly what he was doing before he fell asleep on the couch.

"It's okay," Johnny said, with a gentle smile. "I'll get it. It pays to be an informant, you know?"  


  



End file.
